


Deep Roots

by EHyde



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5040889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EHyde/pseuds/EHyde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things live longer than humans, but in the end, Zeno still has to say goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep Roots

Zeno knew of three trees, three trees in all of Kouka, that were older than him. The first stood in the heart of the Water Tribe, a giant redwood that towered over the dense forest that surrounded it. Men had cut into it, and counted its rings, and it was one of that land’s many tourist attractions. “Higher than the reach of Ryokuryuu,” that was one of the things they said about it, and even though that wasn’t true, it made Zeno smile. He’d climbed it, once—more like climbing a wall than climbing a tree, at least for the first hundred feet or so—and seeing the world from so high a vantage point had shaken him, brought back memories of the few occasions when Shuten had carried him and he’d flown even higher. He’d found he couldn’t stand the feeling, and had retreated so quickly that he lost his grip and fell.

The second grew in the land of Fire. It was less impressive to look at, and hardly what you’d call tall at all, but just as celebrated by the people who lived nearby. Legend said that King Hiryuu had once blessed it, but Zeno didn’t remember anything like that. Still, that tree had been the focus of village festivals for over a thousand years.

No one knew of the third tree but Zeno himself. A tall, thick pine, it grew high on the rolling hills that overlooked the place that Zeno had once called home. No trace of that village remained, but the tree still stood there. It hadn’t been the oldest tree in the forest back then, but it had served as a marker, standing at a fork in the trail. Perhaps that was why it had never been cut down. Zeno had waited too long to return to his village—waited too long on purpose, because the thought of seeing anything familiar at all had terrified him. And so the tree, firm and steady, saying  _this way to safety; this way to the deep unknown_  like the voice of an old friend, had been a shock. No one followed those forest trails anymore, no one except Zeno.

Of the three, this tree was the one he came back to. This tree was real in a way that the others weren’t—the others were just stories. This one said  _I’m still here_. It said  _you’re not the oldest living thing in this world_. It wasn’t that he chose to return—at least, he didn’t think it was. But every so often, he found himself there, back at that forgotten fork in the trail. This time, he hadn’t thought about it at all, just rushed into the woods as a sudden late afternoon rainstorm poured out from the sky. It was both a surprise and not a surprise when the tree whose trunk he sheltered against was this tree. His tree. But the dense canopy above him would keep him dry, and the rain would be good for the land, and Zeno found himself drifting off to sleep, curled up in the space between two giant roots.

He woke to the sounds of thunder—Zeno could sleep through more than thunder, but he’d been restless lately, and sitting back and watching the lightning flash through the rain was more pleasant than sleep. More pleasant, at least, until something reached inside Zeno and grabbed every part of his insides and  _shook_. He blinked. “Zeno’s … been struck by lightning?” It had never happened before. Hah! Something that had never happened to him before! But no, that  _wasn’t_  what happened, he realized as he looked up and saw sparks flaring in the canopy above him. It was the  _tree_  that had been hit … and now, it was burning.

_No, no, no!_  It was raining. Surely the rain would put it out? But no, this was only the first rainfall after a dry winter, and the fire had already spread to the surrounding trees, and … and there was nothing Zeno could do. He tried—tried to claw his way up the trunk and smother the flames with his body, only to fall back to the ground as branches snapped off, golden scales blackened with soot.  _Can’t … can’t throw myself in front of a forest fire_. In the end, all he could do was sit by the side of his tree as it died, lungs too full of smoke, eyes too dry from the heat to even cry.

As forest fires went, it was probably a small one, burning itself out in just a few days. Still curled up between those two roots—now merely blackened lumps of charcoal—Zeno reached to brush ash and debris from his face. Looking up at the night sky, finally visible after the clouds of smoke cleared, he cursed the heavens yet again. All human beings must die, that was the way of things, but a tree? A tree could—a tree could keep on—no. A tree couldn’t live forever, either, not even one that had done a very good job of pretending. “Why?” Zeno cried out, his voice still hoarse from the smoke. “Why did you bring me here to see this? Why now?” There was no answer, of course. His tree still stood, a blackened husk, and Zeno would stay by its side for one more night before moving on. A long night, with only the silent heavens for company, but Zeno couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. He knew, this time, he wouldn’t return.

As the stars finally faded from view, red lit up the morning sky. Not the rising sun—it was a little too early, a little too far to the north. Another fire? Another fire wouldn’t mean anything, though; Zeno had nothing more to lose. But—no. This light wasn’t from the earth, but from the heavens. A comet? Zeno was no astronomer, but he knew all the comets, had seen every one of them more than once. Not this one. A red comet … and then Zeno  _knew_.

_A red star that ascends with the dawn. That hasn’t been seen in over two thousand years_. The one that Zeno had been waiting for.

He stood up. Brushed flakes of ash and charred clothing from his skin. Looked up at the dead shell of his oldest companion. “Well, that’s it, then,” he said. “Zeno has to leave his past behind, eh?” Tears welled up in his eyes, but they weren’t tears of sadness, not really. He turned his gaze back to that red star. “It’s time for something new.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm [fallenwithstyle](http://fallenwithstyle.tumblr.com) on tumblr if you'd like to come say hi.


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